


Forgiveness

by Atsalea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Break Up, Falling In Love, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-06 13:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13412163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsalea/pseuds/Atsalea
Summary: Draco Malfoy attempts to apologize to everyone he has wronged.





	1. Bewilderment

**Author's Note:**

> Something I twirled around in my head on my way home. This started as an idea of a crack piece, but the other scene with Hermione wouldn't leave me. I decided to start a multi-chaptered one. Hopefully I'll manage the chapters without too much of a writer's block. Tags will be added as I go, I guess. (I already put the ones I had in my mind.)
> 
> I am not fluent, so this may contain grammatical errors. Feel free to give any comment you please :)

 

Hermione Granger was not having a good day.

It was the second week of the year and she felt already being on the verge of collapsing. The amount of work was huge in the seventh year. Of course she had been prepared for nothing less; she remained as one of the most well-organized students in the history of British wizardry schooling. Few pop quizzes and double assignments were not going to bother her, certainly.

But the truth was brutal. As much as she had liked travelling side by side with Ron and Harry, destroying the evil Dark Lord’s soul, it may have made her forget how tough the schoolwork actually was. She had to keep up to earn her final grades and graduate. The evenings were long and filled with tea, books, and more tea and books. She wished to spend more time with Ron, just the two of them and perhaps flickers of nice and warm flames in the fireplace… But her time was always engaged to her studies.

Which was why she found herself so abnormally pissed of, as one certain blond was taking forever with his own studying material.

Draco Malfoy had come to the library probably for the same reason as everyone else; to get books. That could be extremely close to accurate, actually. It was just that Hermione had _five_ essays waiting to be written and _ten_ extremely advanced charms demanding to be mastered before the end of the course. Ron had asked her to come to the Burrow with him in the next weekend – as they were now adult students and could officially leave the schoolgrounds during their studies – but Hermione knew she’d have to read until she got sick of it, and thus they wouldn’t have any time for themselves. Ron would of course try to pull her out of her shell for a snog or two, but Hermione had to focus solely on her studies. She wanted to work in the Ministry. The access was ruthless, she didn’t have time for slacking! She yearned to continue with her equality project. Someday, The Elven Rights Council was going to become a real thing.

So of course, in theory, Hermione understood Malfoy’s purpose to be in a library in a first place. And the reason he was taking forever with his enormous pile of books. But Hermione had all kind of topics on the top of her head. And to be honest, she was just a little pissed off that it was Malfoy who was currently taking her studying time.

”Care to adjourn?” she drawled. ”A strenuous Mudblood in the line.”

Malfoy twirled around, a somewhat alarming look in his steely eyes. Hermione wondered briefly if this was how he had looked the day Harry had slain him in the bathroom.

”Granger”, said Malfoy flatly.

Hermione huffed. ”Yes, Malfoy, great observation skills right there. You’ve blown me away. Can you get a move on? There are other people too who want to borrow books, which are, you know, meant equally for everyone to have, I’m not certain whether you’re familiar with the concept…?”

Malfoy shifted a little, a displeased frown forming between blond brows, but Hermione noticed that there wasn’t the usual mock or annoyance on display. Malfoy looked almost… Embarrassed.

How weird.

”I didn’t realise you were behind me. I have many books, so naturally the reservation was taking its time. You know, the amount of seconds one has to bear before they can adjourn from their ungodly function. I’m positive you’re familiar with the concept.”

Hermione blinked. She wasn’t sure she liked to be around Malfoy when he was being decent. It was odd, unnatural, and it made her feel left out. And Hermione Granger hated almost nothing more than feeling left out. This extraordinary version of Malfoy was being not only civil towards her, but almost… Playful?

What in the bloody name of actual Merlin himself?

”Granger?” Malfoy’s nasal tone pulled her back to the situation and made her cringe a little. She had never liked his voice. Mostly because it had always been spewing slurs at her, but also because of the weird, squeaky thing it did. It was not attractive at all.

”Yes, Your Majesty? Are you done with your books? I have essays to write and a talk to prepare and a boyfriend to cuddle with, I don’t have the whole evening.”

Malfoy sniffed, and it made his pointy nose look amusing. His whole face was weird. How he had ever managed to have anything going on with that Parkinson girl was beyond Hermione.

”Good Salazar, spare me the details. I don’t need to hear about…” Malfoy looked almost ready to say something particularly nasty and Hermione stiffed, ready to jump into Ron’s defence. But he exhaled and said only: ”You and Weasley.”

Weird again.

Malfoy turned and performed a levitating charm with intense focus. Then he stepped aside, letting Hermione finally come to the desk to make her reservation.

”Granger”, said Malfoy, quieter this time. His tone held something Hermione had never heard in it before. So she turned to him and found the most complex expression on his face. It made her stop in her tracks. Malfoy gave his lips a faint lick and spoke softly:

”I am sorry about the whole Mu– Muggle-born thing. I was ignorant.”

Hermione blinked.

”I said a lot of stupid things during our years here. The most stupid ones were addressed to Potter, Weasley and you.” Malfoy guided his books onto the nearest table and lowered his wand. ”I believed sincerely the thoughts my father shared with me during my childhood and youth. That Muggles were lower citizens, that they ought to be put in their place because they had once been prejudiced towards our magical abilities. I think… I don’t think I would find much in common with a non-magical person, but that doesn’t make them any less worthy than my kind, I’ve realised.”

Hermione stared at him, stunned. Malfoy got even more uncomfortable.

”And that leads to my next point, which is how poorly I treated you and other of your status. I always thought Muggles were stupid and useless because they couldn’t do magic… But then they can get children who can. And I guess I was always hugely jealous that someone like that could do magic better than me. That… you could do it better than me. And that’s partly why I was so vicious. The other reason was that you were always around H– Potter. Pissed me off, that one.” Malfoy was now scrubbing the hem of his shirt, awfully interested in it.

Hermione could still not say anything. The whole deal was too absurd. Malfoy got visibly anxious and let his arms fall against his sides.

”What I’m trying to do is apologize. I am sorry, Granger. I was ill-mannered.”

The silence came down and Hermione found a hand in her hair. It belonged to her. She had a manner of scrubbing her curls when things got particularly intricate.

Clearly Malfoy was waiting for some kind of a response. But what should she say? ’It’s alright’? ’We all did stupid things back then’? ’I can see you’ve matured’? ’Even if I still can’t quite stand the sight of you, you are okay nowadays’? ’You’re being odd, stop weirding me out’? ’It’s great that you’ve grown, but I can’t just forgive such a thing just like that’?

But then, could she? She had almost no doubt that Malfoy was being sincere. Draco Malfoy wouldn’t just come to her and act pleasantly for his own pleasure. In the past he hadn’t wanted Hermione to touch his belongings because of her blood status. Asking for her forgiveness was not something he would do too willingly.

”Thank you, I suppose. It’s… Decent of you.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened, and his posture straightened. He looked extremely pleased with himself, a little flushed as well.

”Yes, Granger… I appreciate it. I… I am going to talk with the Weasleys as well. Ronald and Ginevra.”

Hermione raised her bushy eyebrow. What an interesting statement.

”But not Harry?”

Malfoy looked caught of guard. He licked his lips again. They dried quite fast, Hermione noted.

”Yes. I mean, no I am. I am going to talk with him. It’s just… He’s going to be the hardest.”

Hermione thought they had already broken every single unwritten rule between them, so why the hell should she restrain herself from asking valid questions. ”Do you mean because of all the times you insulted Lily Evans who died in the hands of Voldemort?”

Malfoy actually flinched. His eyes had a haunted look in them. There was something weird about it. He reminded Hermione of some caged animal that wants to escape, but is too firmly attached into an iron trap. When he spoke, his voice was almost too small to be heard. ”Yeah.”

Weird indeed.

Hermione was not entirely sure what was it about the whole situation that made her say what she said next. Perhaps it was the fact that Malfoy had been not only decent but kind to her for the first time in their life. Perhaps it was that she was about to start an equality movement as soon as she got into working from school, and burying prejudices and grudges seemed like a good way to start. Perhaps it was because she wanted to believe Malfoy was sincere. Perhaps because she wanted to end the war for good. Or perhaps it was because she saw the hopeless longing in the grey eyes in the instant moment she had mentioned Harry, and that brought back all her memories of Ron being with Lavender, Ron being oblivious and Ron being away from their Horcrux hunt… And her being heartbroken.

”I think the war matured us all. You, especially. I can see you stand behind your words. I am glad you’ve grown out of your prejudices. I’m sure Harry will see that as well.”

Malfoy’s gaze snapped to her in an instant. Hermione bit the corner of her mouth to keep herself from smiling.

”I – you think?”

Suddenly she recalled all the obsessing comments about Malfoy this and Malfoy that back in their sixth year. Harry had seldom spoken of anything beside that. _’Guys, Malfoy is up to something, I swear, it’s something fishy, I know, why don’t any of you guys see that?'_ She knew the whole deal was about to become topical again, as soon as the knowledge of Malfoy’s apology spread into Harry’s ears, and she suppressed a sigh.

”Yes, I think.”

Something happened on Malfoy’s face. Perhaps it was the break of the day, Hermione wasn’t sure anymore. She was sure of one thing only; that she had eaten something dubious for breakfast. She felt so clueless all of sudden. Did the new Malfoy come with a manual? It would help her a great deal to prevent any surprises in the future.

”I’ll go. Thank you, Granger.” Malfoy performed his charm again - clearly with effortless grace, the devil - and left the library with prompt steps. And Hermione could’ve _sworn_ she heard him hum a little.

She wasn’t sure what the world was coming to, but she didn’t dislike the change.

 

 


	2. Artifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco should just face his worst nightmare; himself beneath a Weasley. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be the end of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all the lovely cheesecakes reading this :) I want to thank you for all the Kudos' <3 I'm starting to get into this story for real.
> 
> Comments are welcomed and loved equally :D

 

”Why are the teachers so small-minded?” sighed Ron, pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s ear. ”You’d graduate without that much paperwork, honestly.”

”Of course I would, Ronald. I have the best bases in my knowledge. No spell can destabilize me. If it only weren’t that one has to _work_ hard to gain results. I’ve been working hard since I learned how to urinate myself. And the teachers know that too. If I don’t work hard now, Merlin knows I’m not going to succeed in anything at the Ministry.”

Ron croaked a laugh and gave her shoulder a fond shove. He reveled in Hermione’s way of putting every imaginable being into their place by simple facts.

”So the Ministry is really going to have you?” asked Harry from the bench beside. They were sitting in the outside corridor, bathing their bare feet in the Autumn sunlight. All expect Hermione, who thought it was inappropriate to lack school clothing. Harry thought fighting Voldemort gave anyone at all a right to take off their socks, and Ron couldn’t have put it better himself.

”I should hope so. I’ve asked McGonagall about every class I need. History of magic is one of the most important ones actually, since I’m going for the council project. I need to read about all the nasty things the elves have had to bear – you don’t even want to hear about it! I’ve gone through amendments in the last centuries. Did you know that it was an honorable form of a punishment for a wizard to set their house-elf in fire until year 1875?”

Harry stiffened, and Ron grimaced into Hermione’s thick mane of a hair. It was not hard to guess what kind of flashbacks his best friend was getting.

”Did a dementor pass by before me?” joked Ginny, swinging herself effortlessly over the bench and putting her freckled arm around Harry’s neck, pecking him. Harry looked slightly grateful as he turned to the red-hair and pressed against her in a proper kiss. Ron laughed dryly. ”Don’t drown him, Gin.”

Ginny flashed her tongue at her brother and pulled her rosy calves up, crossing them. ”Alright, Harry?” she asked in a soft tone. Harry nodded to her, running a weary hand through his black nest.

”Yes, yes. Just… I’ve thought about visiting the graves.”

Everyone stilled somewhat. Ron saw Hermione biting her lip and pressing her nose harder into the book. The mirthful brown in Ginny’s eyes closed, making her face bleak and crossed. Ron thought about the mirth in Fred’s brown eyes right before a green light flashed, vanishing it for good. A shudder went through his shoulders, body and toes.

”We should. Together.” Ginny pressed against Harry’s shoulder, fingering the shirt. Only a breeze could be heard for a moment. Then Hermione closed her book, putting it into her bag.

”Do you want to know a funny thing that happened yesterday?”

 

* * *

 

Draco had made a list. He was now leaning against a wall, examining it up close. Every passing second brought the uncomfortable feeling closer, hitting harder into his gut. This was going to feel humiliating.

Weasley was different from his girlfriend. Granger had always been fiery about righteousness, but she also saw rationality. The ginger was a complete opposite. He seemed to never hesitate a second before laying a punch, did he happen to feel like it. Weasley had never mastered word games. He had been ridiculously easy to rile up, even easier than Potter – Potter had answered right back, had thrown Draco’s malice back into his face… Making him grave for more…

Draco blinked. This wasn’t about who had been punching whom in the past. This was about his apology to the feisty weasel. If the other boy ended up smashing Draco’s face in, he’d have to put his defending charms into work. He was pretty decent with his wand. Even if he had owned it for only few months. Harry still had his old one.

The one that had saved him.

Harry had got Draco’s wand. Draco was left without it, feeling afraid and vulnerable. The Dark Lord had had his enormous snake slithering all over the floors of Draco’s home. And Draco’s mother had cried until her beautiful lashes lost all their jet-black.

But Harry had got a wand, and Draco wished it had helped him. Saved him, even.

He glanced at his parchment, hoping it to actually disappear, turn into dust or ash or something. The very words he had written on it made him horribly embarrassed, and in some very sick way, mildly proud.

_\- Comment’s on Molly Weasley’s weight._

_\- My opinion about his robes._

_\- That one time Father was a git to his father (even though his father started it)._

Draco grimaced. He wasn’t going to apologize for _that._ Conjuring his self-inking quill from the insides of his bag, he stroke it through.

_\- When I insulted him about his wealth, even though our wealth did not help us at all when we were being imprisoned in our own house by that madman._

Grimacing again, Draco crossed everything after the first comma.

_\- The song._

A dry laugh erupted from him. Okay, _that_ had been priceless. Besides, the freckled sod had got his fifteen minutes in the end. Draco’s team had been one to bear all the humiliation. Weasley had got his arse raised into the air and carried everywhere, all of Gryffindor shouting his name and naming their children after him. Perhaps it had been Draco’s unkindness that had driven him to reach better goals and focus harder. Basically Draco was the hero here, right?

Oh, well. Maybe he should just face his worst nightmare; himself beneath a Weasley. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be the end of him. He still had Potter to go through, after all.

 

* * *

 

”He _what_?!” shrieked Harry and Ron in unison, while Ginny bursted into a giggling fit. ”You’re barking, Hermione!” 

”No, I’m not”, the bushy girl insisted. ”He apologized to me. Listed all kind of things he was sorry for. Mainly for calling slurs at me and Muggle-borns in general.”

”Jeez, what kind of Imperius was the git under?” snorted Ron. ”He must’ve got really pissed the night before.”

Hermione sighed, giving her eyes a pointed roll. ”I very much doubt that. I’ve seen Imperius up close, I’d recognize if someone under it was talking to me! Also, he is the most unpleasant, unselfless, unkind, unhumble person I’ve ever had a pleasure of knowing. He wouldn’t just step down and admit his mistakes if he didn’t mean it.”

”That makes sense”, agreed Ginny. ”But don’t you think he did it just to have better future relationships with the Ministry?”

Ron was very proud of his sister’s deduction skills. Apologizing to Hermione had surely not been pleasant for Malfoy, but he was actually going to get something out of it. It wasn’t like Malfoy had walked into the school waving some white flag in the start of the term. The fact that he had been keeping quiet didn’t mean he still wasn’t an arsehole. He could be. There was no doubt that he was bitter. Lucius Malfoy had earned a very merciless sentence in Azkaban, and the ferret was lucky to not have gone after his daddy. He was left with stained name and injured pride – of course he was plotting something on those who had landed him into the situation. Even if him, Harry and Hermione hadn’t been the ones to force his bastard of a father behind the bars.

”He actually mentioned he was going to apologize to you and Ron also”, mused Hermione.

Ron started coughing. That couldn’t be right! He saw Ginny’s red brows climb towards hairline. Harry, who had been quiet during the whole revelation, spoke.

”But not me?”

Ron was bemused. Harry’s tone hold no amusement, no bitterness, no anger. Just pure curiosity. It was almost like he was trying to unfold some challenging puzzle. His voice had hold the same kind of shade back in their sixth year, when he had been reading Snape’s potions book. It had been exactly like that when he had talked about Malfoy’s could-be Dark Mark. It had been extremely alike when he read about the spell he later slashed Malfoy open with.

”You see”, said Hermione, clearly liking it as she finally got to share some knowledge she had got from somewhere else than a book, ”he said he would talk to you last, since he thought you would be the hardest one to deal with.”

Harry snorted. ”What a conclusion. I wonder from where it popped into his head.”

Ginny’s brows pressed into a distasteful frown and her hand squeezed Harry’s arm reassuringly. ”You don’t have to lower yourself into anything he might ask you to. You don’t own him a thing.”

Ron remembered how Malfoy hadn’t given Harry away back in the manor. He remembered them flying through fire and rescuing Malfoy and Goyle. And lastly his thoughts fell on Narcissa Malfoy, who had lied to Lord Voldemort.

”Weasley.”

Ron saw Hermione, Ginny and Harry’s heads whipping around before his did so. Malfoy stood there, of course he did. How much had the git heard?

”Malfoy”, drawled Ginny. ”What is it you’d like to share with us?”

Malfoy got an uncomfortable look into his eyes, leaning slightly onto his other leg. He was wearing his school uniform perfectly, his brand-new school uniform. Ron suddenly felt very attacked. What was the git on about? Was he trying something with Hermione? Was that why he had stammered something to her? Did he think he had invented some cool new way to bully her, playing with her mind? Playing with all their minds? Ron wasn’t going to give in to him.

”I want to talk with Weasley”, Malfoy said tonelessly. ”Alone, please.”

Ginny let go of Harry, making an attempt to stand up. ”I’d love to.”

”The male one”, remarked Malfoy dryly. Ginny scowled at him. Ron stood up.

”Sure, Malfoy. I think we have much to discuss.”

Malfoy looked taken aback. Perhaps he had waited for an insult or a demand or some kind of greeting into Hell and back? Well, though Ron happily, Malfoy wasn’t the only one with mind games.

The blond seemed to get a hold of himself, and sweeping a hand through his ridiculously pale hair he said: ”Yes. Let’s go over there.”

 

* * *

 

Draco was getting even more nervous. That wasn’t good. Nervous didn’t suit him. Malfoys didn’t get nervous. Or perhaps they did when there was a pissed dark lord and his sixteen-feet pet snake. But that was a tale for another camp over.

Weasley hadn’t tried to hex him. Weasley hadn’t yelled at him or even badmouthed him. It was unnatural, and Draco was getting more and more anxious with each second. Was Weasley about to beat him into a bloody pulp? Would he kick his balls or stomach and then rid him of his wand when Draco was on the ground, defenseless? Was he going to end Draco for his stupid slurs and stupid Galleons and stupid song? Was he –?

”Alright, Malfoy? You’re looking more like a corpse than usual.”

Weasley’s drawl pulled Draco into reality. Right. He was about to do it. He was going to apologize, nice and proper. He wasn’t going to be a coward about it. He had got enough of being a coward already. Clearing his throat, he began:

”Weasley, I came to speak with you because I wish to express my guilt. I behaved very rudely during our years in this school. I acted so mostly because of the influence of my parents and my Father’s politics. I idolized the idea of a wealthy wizard who had a pure bloodline and powerful magical abilities. I thought everyone beside that was beneath me. I apologize for insulting your heritage. It was ignorant of me to shame you for your clothing and wealth status. I feel guilt for speaking insolent things about your parents. I’m sure they are both very honorable wizards. I apologize for insulting your family members in general. I must apologize altogether for every hurtful thing my family has ever brought on you.”

Malfoy ceased, stilled and yet looked like he was about to continue. So Ron didn’t allow his feelings betray him and burst him into speech. Instead he stood there completely quiet and still, waiting for the blond to continue. After an easy minute he finally pressed his gaze down and said in a small, the most sincere voice Ron had ever heard from him:

”I apologize for Fred.”

A pang of different emotions hit Ron hard at once.

 

* * *

 

Draco had stilled. There. That was a nice apology, wasn’t it? Proper and heartfelt, but not too emotional. Salazar curse him, did he ever end up emotional in front of Weasley. The humiliation was burning enough already.

He honestly thought Weasley had appreciated his apology, believed in it almost, until the ginger finally started yelling.

”What do you think you’re playing at?! Is this some kind of a sick joke?!”

Draco looked up sharply. All the trembling emotion he had experienced from mentioning Weasley’s brother vanished in an instant. Why would he allow emotions come to himself? They had taken over him once. It had led to his destruction. He wasn’t about to make the same mistakes again.

”I beg your pardon?” he asked, raising into his full, straight height, eyes and voice becoming cold at once.

”Why are you saying stuff like that?! Hermione told me all about your little conversation with her! She may have said she’d forgive you, but I know her better than that! She’s smart, she won’t let you play her!”

Draco found the situation absurdly amusing. The idiotic Weasel thought Draco had feelings for his girlfriend! What next, would he go through Draco’s journal and claim everyone he had had a wet dream about professor Snape back in third year? Surely he wouldn’t. Draco grimaced. He’d have to put a strong charm on his journal.

”I’m not ’playing’ anything with her, Weasley. Although I question her smartness, since she has apparently decided to stick around.”

”Wha – DON’T YOU INSULT ME EVER AGAIN, YOU SLIMY FERRET! I’VE HEARD ENOUGH OF IT!”

Draco braced himself for the punch. This wasn’t going as he had hoped it would be. He had of course been prepared for this, but it wasn’t satisfying in any form. Merlin, why had he ever even thought this would be a fruitful idea? Brick walls were easier to consult with than Weasleys.

And yet, Weasley did not hit him.

Weird.

”I wasn’t insulting you. I was simply expressing my dislike in the matter of you disregarding everything I just told you.”

Weasley was breathing hard, squeezing his freckled hands into red fists. ”And I told you; I don’t believe a word of it.”

Draco shrugged. ”Suit yourself. I’ve done my best, I can’t force you to see reason. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t want to understand. Granger did, so I guess that counts as a one win for me.”

Draco turned to go, but Weasley’s surly voice made him stop in his tracks.

”Why did you speak to Hermione? Why’d you say you are sorry?”

Draco wasn’t going to look at him. Wasn’t going to let him see his defeat. Wasn’t going to let him see how Draco knew he had been in the wrong all those years.

”Because I am.”

He walked through the corridor, over the yard, up the stairs, and took a turn. He didn’t turn to see the perhaps bemused, perhaps loathing look in Weasley’s bright blue eyes.

 

* * *

 


End file.
